The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

the floor. She smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. The weapon fell from his nerveless fingers and landed harmlessly on the floor as he stared at her like a stunned ox.
    She turned to Tattoo Man with an enchanting smile. “Rocko, you’ve got a girl who loves you and a baby on the way. Why did you let yourself get talked into this?”
    He looked as if he wanted to weep. His weapon also sagged towards the floor. Maggie patted his cheek and he beamed at her goofily as the gun slipped from his hand.
    She turned to Shark, who backed away frantically, trying to steady his gun with two shaking hands as he aimed at her heart. “Jeez, what are you, some kind of witch?”
    The spell she’d used on the others wasn’t working on him, so I dragged myself out of my trance and hurled a can of tomato soup into Shark’s throat. “Duck, Maggie!”
    I was a pretty good pitcher in the days when I had time to play ball. Shark made a strangled sound and doubled over. I followed up the soup with a big, heavy can of garbanzos that hit him in the temple. He collapsed, loosing a shot as he fell, but Maggie had ducked and the bullet went over her head.
    While she was bent over, she scooped the other two guns from the floor. By that time, I had collected Shark’s weapon as well.
    I yelled, “It’s OK in here, officers! I’m one of two customers. The three robbers have surrendered and given us their guns. Call an ambulance! The clerk is badly hurt.”
    “Put your hands in the air!” the gruff cop voice called.
    It wouldn’t be good for the police to come in and see three guns, so I set Shark’s way up on a shelf of canned goods. After I added Maggie’s two weapons, I raised my hands and yelled, “Come on in!”
    The two thugs who were still standing looked a little dopey from whatever Maggie had done. The police entered in a wary crouch, weapons at the ready. When they saw the threat was over, they relaxed and cuffed the robbers. I guess I still looked harmless because they didn’t even suspect me of being one of the bad guys.
    An ambulance arrived, and suddenly the deli was full of cops and EMTs looking to see if Rajiv was salvageable. One whistled softly as he checked Rajiv’s heartbeat and blood pressure. “This guy’s the luckiest man in New York City. He’s lost a lot of blood, but the bullets seem to have missed the major blood vessels.”
    Fortunately, it wouldn’t occur to them that Rajiv had been healed by magic. “I did what I could to slow the bleeding,” I explained. “He and I are both fourth-year med students and his father is a surgeon. Take good care of him.”
    The EMT nodded as he and his mate stabilized Rajiv. Medical people look out for their own. “He’ll make it. You do good work, doc.” High praise.
    As Rajiv was hoisted onto a gurney, he managed a crooked smile. “Don’t let the grands get too freaked out, Charlie.”
    I patted his hand. “I’ll tell them you’ll be OK.”
    His grandparents would go straight to the hospital, I suspected. His parents, the judge and the surgeon, would grab the first available flight from Dallas. Thank God the news about Rajiv was good.
    As the barely conscious Shark was wrestled to his feet, a policewoman said to Maggie and me, “Stay out of the way while we take care of the perps and victim. We’ll need statements.”
    I nodded and moved to the back of the shop, Maggie following. She looked as drained as I felt. I asked, “Want a latte?”
    She smiled crookedly. “You’re a barista as well?”
    “I helped out Rajiv sometimes when things got busy.” I made two of my favourite mocha lattes, heavy on the cream and chocolate syrup, but only single shots of caffeine. I figured both of us had had enough stimulation for one night.
    Maggie accepted the latte, took a swig, then slid down to the floor, her back against the cabinet. “That was an impressive job of healing, Dr Owens.”
    “Charlie.” I heaped as much whipped cream on top of my latte as I could, then joined her on the floor, only a few inches between us as we leaned back against the coffee cabinet. Despite all the noise and activity — there were now TV cameras filming outside - we had our own private little space to talk. I’d brought a handful of cranberry scones down with me, and I offered one to Maggie.
    Scones are first-class comfort food. She tried to be ladylike, but failed. After demolishing one in two bites, she said, “Remind me to never again go out for food at 2 a.m. in New